Let Go
by Venchaser
Summary: ONESHOT: Cloud meets Zack on a train ride. A conversation starts...


AN: Hey everyone! This is a little experiment. I am trying out a few things here. This is not my best work. Perhaps, I will correct it, but for now, I want to know your opinions.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy

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The train stopped. So did my heart. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. My eyes followed the dark-haired boy who was settling himself a few seats further down the train corridor. My friend, Aerith, must have noticed my behaviour for she asked me the following question:

"Something wrong?" she enquired with her soft sweet voice.

I could only nod. My mouth went dry. As if I had swallowed a spoonful of cinnamon. I could feel the palms of my hands getting sweaty. I could feel a single drop of sweat rolling down my side.

"Say," my voice croaked "isn't that …". Aerith, who was sitting in front of me, turned around to see the source of my distress. Her eyes opened wide in recognition and started waving at the youth whom had now spotted the vivacious girl.

The boy got out of his seat and started moving towards Aerith and me. The movement of the train created a rhythmical motion that aggravated the feeling of discomfort. It's sickening rocking made my stomach churn.

I saw him coming closer and closer. A feeling of annoyance towards Aerith overwhelmed me, and I caught a flash of mischief in her eyes. I knew what she was up to. Honestly, she had to mind her _own_ business. Noisy little wench.

"Hey guys, what's up?" The boy asked. "I'm fine, Zack." She replied in a voice laced with poisonous intentions according to me. "What are the odds of seeing you here?" She added a little smile. "Why don't you take a seat?" "Don't mind if I do." Zack said in his cheerful baritone voice.

"Hey, Cloud. How are you doing?" Zack added a little wink. I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I cleared my throat and answered, somewhat awkwardly "Fine as I'll ever be." A slight trembling coloured my weak reply. Zack took no heed and redirected his attention to Aerith who inquired why he was taking the train.

My heart was beating like a drum. Zack Fair, love of my life, prince on the white horse, saviour of my dull, boring and rather monotonous life was sitting only a seat away. Of course, Zack had no idea I had these thoughts. The mere idea of Zack knowing these thoughts made me feel ashamed. How could I ever tell Zack that he was the most beautiful, handsomest, and let's face it, most drop-dead gorgeous piece of –excuse me for the term- ass. Well, that's enough, I believe. We don't want to go the girly-girl route here.

As these thoughts occupied my mind, I had failed to notice Aerith's leaving. When I resurfaced from my own little world of thoughts, I saw a two bright blue eyes in front of me.

"So, Cloud, how've you been? I feel like I haven't spoken to you since the end of term." "That's because it _has_ been since end of term. Anyway, I have been giving the kids in my neighbourhood some remedial lessons in English, they apparently have to resit their English exam, so I have been pretty busy." I paused, wondering if I should continue. I do have this annoying tendency to start blabbering about, once started. "Today's actually one of my free days." Okay, stop here. More information is unnecessary.

A genuine flash of admiration appeared on Zack's face. "Wow, I couldn't teach to save my own life." A warm, low chuckled escaped his mouth. My heart skipped a beat. He was too perfect.

I took in every feature of Zack. The little scar on the side of his cheek. His tanned skin that contrasted his luminous blue eyes. His black hair that seemed to resemble a moonless night, filled with an endless darkness. The five o' clock shadow gracing his sharp features added an extra touch of ruggedness. The navy shirt that hugged his well-built frame. The musky smell of his perfume. He was a god to me. A fitting comparison, for the gods can hear our prayers, we can revere them, but as wtih all idealized images, they belong to the realm of imagination, fantasy. Unable to be touched.

"Cloud, I have been meaning to ask you something for quite a while."

I could hear the moving of the train on the tracks. The soft whistle of wind entering the wagon through a little opening in the window. A fit of coughs of an elder passenger, gasping for air. The crying of an infant, wanting the touch of his mother's warm and loving hand. All these sounds suddenly became so much more intense.

Zack shifted his weight to his other leg, readjusting his position. I could notice a faint blush spreading across his face. "What I have been meaning to ask you. No, what I have been trying to tell you…"

We entered a dark tunnel. The lights, that should have been lighted, kept sleeping. Enveloping the wagon in the darkness of the tunnel. I could feel a hand on me knee, and a hot breath nearing my face and then -

Well, I should probably stop fantasizing. The fragment you just read was just a figment of my imagination. Aerith never motioned Zack to come over. Zack never got up to say "hi". Aerith wasn't even present in that train ride. I was alone, writing this piece of - on my computer. Zack, however, wasn't alone. He was accompanied by his friends. A noisy bunch whom I would describe as douchy and a bunch of dim-witted buffoons. But why should I not view the fragment above as reality? Reality is cruel, harsh. Fantasy laces truth with a bittersweet coat of innocence and play. And as I write this text I am glancing towards Zack. Hoping he might shift his attention to me. Perhaps, I should let go.


End file.
